Epiphany.

I don't remember when I started cooking.
But I do remember that I was always surrounded by cooking...

I remember my grandma, my aunts and my mom in the kitchen at one of my (3) aunt's houses kneading, rolling, slicing dough to make kal-guk-soo (Korean flour noodles in hot broth). And my aunt telling me, "The key to kal-guk-soo is to make the noodles from scratch..."

I remember my mom making kimchi in the backyard and asking me (as she always does when she makes kimchi) if I'm going to remember these recipes and make kimchi once I'm married. I always replied, "No." Regardless, she would continue to say that the hardest and the most critical phase of the whole kimchi-making procedure was to salt the napa just right...

I remember taking a summer cooking class in elementary school, at the Yorba Linda Community Center. We learned how to make chicken parmigiana (using Kellogg's corn flakes) and one fateful day, we made chocolate whipped-cream roll. Chocolate cake + chocolate whipped cream + chocolate frosting. I was sick the rest of the day, and I've had an aversion to chocolate since.

Since then, I have advanced to the higher gastronomical realms of Giada de Laurentiis, Ina Garten, and Michael Chiarello. (I don't use the recipes of the other Food Network chefs for their lack of pretentiousness.) I've since discovered the magical world of orzo, kalamata olives, fennel, parmigiano-reggiano, and "good" olive oil.

In the aftermath of the s***storm that has hit our beautiful single-story residence in Yorba Linda, I had an epiphany. While grilling steaks, asparagus, and cherry tomatoes for my estranged parents, I realized that I cook to create momentary lapses of happiness for myself and those around me. For the past 25 years, I had come to convince myself that I can make things better (at least temporarily) by making lasagna rollatinis, French onion soup, kimchi chigae, buta no kakuni, and more. And wine. Wine is always good.

I do realize that I'm going to need some serious therapy some time in the near future. But for now, I'm going to keep cooking and create photographic records of it in cyberspace.